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Calling in Sick....
A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable
because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss
thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied
anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply
mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel
up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to
explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean
it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident
occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute
little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower
after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen.
"Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it."
"You know where the button is." I protested through the shower
(pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded.
"What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only
take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start
itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from
"Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too
many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of
like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a
poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground
into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I
came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about
how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who
would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find
the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck
without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its
gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the
dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the
Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took
the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most
vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged
them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense
danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all
rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively,
their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising
upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk
could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a
kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild
animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in
this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight
up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a
dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never
made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the
impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics
stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics
snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their
hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the
office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept
silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat
got your tongue?" If they had only known.

A young woman on a rough Atlantic crossing was in her
cabin undressing then suddenly she was overcome by sea
sickness. In a panic she rushed into the corridor and
headed for the bathroom. It was not until she collided
with an elderly gentleman that she realized she didn't
have a stitch of clothing on. Horrified, she let out a
shriek. Her fellow sufferer looked at her sadly.
"Don't let it bother you, miss," he moaned. "I'll never
live to tell anyone."

While in prison O.J. had another prisoner join him in his
cell. This person was 8' tall and 670 lbs. of solid muscle.
He asked O.J. if he wanted to be the husband or the wife.
Now O.J. not being stupid started reasoning in his mind "OK
if I say I'm going to be the wife, this guy is going to fuck
me in the ass." So O.J. said he was going to be the husband.
The other prisoner said, OK O.J. your the husband. Now get
over here and suck your wife's dick."

A driver pulled up beside a rundown farmhouse. He got out and
knocked at the door. A very old woman answered the door, and
he asked her for directions to Des Moines.
"Don't know," the woman said.
He got back in his car and pulled away. Then he heard voices.
He looked in his rearview mirror and saw the woman and an
equally old man waving for him to come back. So he made a U-
turn and drove up to them.
"This is my husband," the old woman said. "He doesn't know
how to get to Des Moines either."